


symbiotic

by midnightcarlights



Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:26:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6155132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightcarlights/pseuds/midnightcarlights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>see: symbiosis<br/>symbiosis: a relationship between two people in which each person is dependent upon and receives reinforcement, whether beneficial or detrimental, from the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. don't touch me

“Don’t touch me!” George snapped at a rather astonished looking Matty who was trying to comfort him. “Don’t fucking touch me!”  


Matty flinched back, holding up his hands as to show he wasn’t about to reach out again, though he so desperately longed to help. He’d never seen George act like this – it wasn’t like him at all. They were always so calm around one another. All friends have fights, especially when they’re as close as these two bandmates, but this was something new. The way George’s eyes narrowed in fury sent fear running through Matty. Was he actually scared of the person he trusted the most? Surely he couldn’t be. But he didn’t know what to do this time; such an explosion was ridiculous. “Why is he acting this way?” he thought to himself “What have I done?”. Suddenly, he felt himself choke on emotions he hadn’t realised were making themselves surface. He was genuinely scared as his tall best friend towered above him. Matty spluttered, erupting into a hot mess of tears, anxiety and fear. Covering his face so his best friend didn’t see his emotional state, he turned on his heels and darted out of their flat. He couldn’t stay in there any longer. Usually when they fought, they’d take an hour or two apart; spend a little time with Ross or Adam, or they’d simply stay in different rooms until they both felt racked with guilt and decided it was time to talk about it. This felt different.  


“Matty!” George called after him, acting on instinct. He was pissed but he didn’t want to make him cry. Oh God no, that was the last thing he wanted to do. He loves Matty, he doesn’t want to see him upset, in fact that’s the reason why we was so mad with himself. He was about to shout out again but his curly haired friend had already ran halfway down the street. Knowing full well that he’d screwed up, George kicked the wall in frustration. He should have felt the pain – he knew that, but he felt nothing at all. Naturally George pulled out his phone to text Matty and quickly sprawled out an apology in a panic and hit send. His heart fell further as light on the kitchen counter flashed up with George’s name. Matty had left his phone at home. Fuck. George angrily threw his own phone at the wall, watching it shatter and fall to the ground in pieces. His body went completely numb as nausea racked through him. How could he let himself be so stupid? He knew all too well how fragile Matty could be. It was a rarity to see George cry – he was an emotional person, yes, but he didn’t show it all the time, and especially not around anyone other than Matthew. He was the only one who saw him in such a state. Tears tumbled from his eyes and down his cheeks. He was furious with himself. He swiped his friend’s phone off of the counter and took a seat on the small sofa in the kitchen to avoid his legs jellifying on him. His arms shook as he unlocked the phone with the familiar password and dialled up Ross. Ross always knew what to do. The dialler tone was amplified in his ear and he could feel just how worked up he was when the heat literally radiated off his face. Ross picked up in a matter of seconds.  


“Hi mate.” Ross said obviously distracted by whatever he was doing before George called. There was a silence when George said nothing in reply. “Matty? You there mate?” He questioned down the phone, a slight edge of concern to his voice.  


“It’s me.” George stuttered, his low voice cracking. He broke again, tears flooding from his eyes and his body shook.  


“George?” he now sounded alarmed, worried even. “George what’s up? Why is this Matty’s phone? What’s going on?” Of course Ross didn’t realise he was giving the drummer a round of 21 questions and that it was not helping in the slightest, but there was definitely, and quite obviously, a lot of sudden confusion. He know something wasn’t right.  


“I’m sorry.” George’s voice was almost a whisper but Ross knew what he was saying despite the middle of his words being basically inaudible. George was now curled up on the sofa rocking back and forth with his long arms wrapped around his giant legs.  


“You’re at your flat, yeah? Stay there. Don’t move. I’m 5 minutes away.” Ross rushed out whilst there were noises of his own front door slamming behind him and a kind, familiar voice shout at him in confusion. Adam most likely. George hung up and clutched Matty’s phone to his chest as he folded even more in on himself, sobs rippling through him.


	2. frozen arguments

As it was nearing 7pm, the streets of London were already dimly lit. The last of the summer sun was going in and the sky was several different shades of pink and orange. It would even have been beautiful enough for Matty to stop and take it all in, maybe even type up something poetic into his phone, if it wasn’t for the fact that his eyes were a blur of tears and his legs were weak and aching. He hadn’t realised how far he had ran, or that he was even running for that matter, but his legs and lungs soon cried out causing him to come to a halt in the park he’d sprinted to. It wasn’t too long since he’d moved to London, so he couldn’t really say he knew it like the back of his hand; it’s a big place and Matty was now most definitely lost. He dragged himself over to a vacant bench with his breath coming out in harsh pants and took a seat. His head flopped back with his eyes closed and taking deep breaths to try and regain himself. A burst of nausea and dizziness shot through him causing him to bring his head back up and quickly into his hands. He let everything hit him all at once and he cried. His body shook with sobs as he recalled the argument. All he wanted was to watch a movie with his best friend. They always watched a movie on a Sunday evening. Always. But this time George was having none of it. 

\--------roughly 45 minutes ago-------- 

"Ready to watch Frozen?" Matty called from the sofa over to George, wiggling his eyebrows a little and adding a soft laugh. He held a big bowl of popcorn on his lap and his mouth automatically pulled into an expectant grin whilst he waited for his friend to reply. His left eyebrow raised when he didn't say a word. "George?" George suddenly snapped back to attention, obviously preoccupied with thought. He was in the kitchen area but their flat was very open and minimal so he was in clear view and not that far away. "What? Oh, um, sorry mate I can't tonight." He rushed out looking rather flustered, his mind clearly still busy. 

"What do you mean?" Matty tried to laugh. But they always watched a movie on Sunday? His grin fell flat. "Why not? We always do." He stayed still, twisting his neck sideways to see George, a small smile still on his face. 

I just can't. Sorry." The tall man didn't even make eye contact, just flicked through his phone with one hand whilst holding a glass of water in the other, a blank expression plastered on to his face. He pocketed his phone when Matty set the popcorn on the coffee table and rose to his feet. Matty was no longer happy or smiling. Worry was etched on his face as he made his way over to George. 

"What's up?" He asked, his voice delicate and calm. "Is something wrong, George?" He'd walked rather fast across the room, not wanting to be apart from George in this moment of concern. He expected George to relax and let Matty lead him over to the sofa, sit him down and talk about things, just like they always do. Except he didn't. Instead, George sighed shortly with obvious frustration and slammed his glass down onto the kitchen table. He was lucky it didn't smash on impact. "No." He was blunt, harsh and cold. "No, Matthew, there is nothing 'wrong'." He snapped, mocking Matty and running his hands through his hair. His voice was laced with sarcasm. Matty took an instant step forward. His brow was furrowed in confusion. Is he missing something? Had he done something to upset George? He quickly thought back through the events of today. Nothing came to mind; it was a pretty normal day of relaxing and lounging around the flat playing eighties vinyl and smoking. Odd. Matty put an arm out onto George's shoulder to comfort him in the hope it would calm him down. That's when George flipped. 

"Don't touch me!" George was irate. "Don't fucking touch me!" 

\-------------------------------------- 

Tears poured from Matty's face as he tried to fathom what went off. He thought the thing that hurt the most is that George, his best friend of god knows how long, was hurting and he hadn't said a word. That wasn't George. George would always slip his problems into a conversation somewhere or hint at Matty that he was going through something and he needed to talk. But he hadn't done any of that. It was all so sudden and overwhelming. Matty sobbed with a hazy head for another good 10 minutes before rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands and taking a huge sigh. He reached for his back pocket, where he usually kept his phone, to reveal nothing. Realisation hit him and he kicked himself. He wasn’t aware of the time, he didn’t wear a watch. After all, who needs a watch when you have a phone? That is, of course, unless you leave your phone at home after having a row with your best mate. Matt sighed and sat back letting his shoulders relax, he took another deep breath, lit up a cigarette from that was in his pocket, and finally took in his surroundings. 

There was a soft orange light falling on the children’s park but no one but he sat shadowed beneath it. Still, you could hear the busy city rushing miles away and the traffic protesting to its own content. Content. That’s something Matty felt around George. They’d always been inseparable – symbiotic, even. Sometimes it had felt like something more, though. Sometimes Matty felt so close to him that he wanted to just let himself go to George. The late nights they spent lying wide awake on the sofa talking or the ones where they were lazily smoking and almost cuddling in either man’s bed. Even those odd few times when they were just sixteen and at Matty’s house, high and drunk; Ross and Adam had made their way to some house party but George and Matty decided to sit that one out. They sat up all night smoking, which ended up with them cuddling and actually kissing before they fell asleep, dazed. There was something comforting about George and he didn’t ever want that to be let go. But what just happened was absurd. All Matty wanted to do was to comfort and help his best friend who he has all this love for. He knows that he loves George and that it’ll always be something more than ‘just friends’, but he also knows that whatever is going off with George, he must find out. He will and he will help him. He’s indebted to George forever. All those times George has helped him without him even knowing it. Matty spent well over an hour reminiscing, crying and worrying until he’d smoked his last fag. Obviously that meant for a wander home. 

The amber sky had faded into a deep, warm blue as Matty stumbled in the direction he came from. He was only aided by street lights, direction signs and gut instinct as he winded his way around the maze of inner London, twirling his messy curls around in between his fingers. It wasn’t cold out, it was peaceful and the rows of houses were becoming more familiar as he wandered down one and on to another. The whole ordeal must have taken about two hours, Matty thought as he reached his own road. How wrong he was. He could see the living room light of their flat was emitting a warm glow from the third storey window. Sighing, he made his way into the building and up in the elevator. He stared into the mirror on the wall, uncertain of what he saw staring back. His eyes were puffy and red, the whites of his eyes bloodshot, there were noticeable dark circles under his eyes and his skin was pale and patchy under the dim synthetic lighting. Nausea surfaced quickly within him but he pushed it down when the elevator stopped moving and the doors opened. As Matty approached the door to his and George’s flat, he could hear familiar voices speaking to each other in stressful voices, their tones varying in noise. He turned the handle and entered to find the three people he cared about the most shoot their gazes towards the door. His heart fell straight to the floor. 


End file.
